It's like standing on a hill watching all the cars drive by. Everyone's speeding, a careless action of thoughtless invites and you realize how [unstable] you are. The grounds not very sturdy and it gives way to a hollow opening and you stumble forward into memories. Your father beating your mother. Your brother watching. Your sister in the bathroom purging herself to feel some sort of balance. The dog runs loose and the phone is ringing.

But the cars still drive. So you head to the parking lot and get in your own. The rear view mirror doesn't apply, it's not [your] eyes looking back. It's nothing at all.

Once you get in the race with all the others, you're going their speed from a distance but in reality.. everything's going so slow. You're going the same speed as everyone but if you weren't going at all, it's like you went no where. You are no where. This isn't home. This isn't life.

Now and again it seems worse than it really is though. And everything snaps to proportion, but you're still stretched over thin fibers. And you're [not] here .. with me.

I don't really have much a say in anything, do I? [Don't] answer the phone when I call.

xxxx